


Helios.exe

by Schrodingers_Rufus



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Gen, Uploaded Consciousness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:26:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schrodingers_Rufus/pseuds/Schrodingers_Rufus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys gets a promotion, courtesy of the Hyperion R&D Department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cmd /K "Helios.exe"

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic way back when Episode 4 came out. I've only written two chapters so far, but there's a healthy chance I'll keep coming back and revisiting this 'verse.

Rhys tried to scream, teeth grinding against the wad of spongy plastic fibers they'd stuffed into his mouth, reminding him gently that they couldn't sedate him, not for this kind of procedure. His jaw twinged, tight with pain and exhaustion, and his wrists and ankles stung as he tried once again to struggle against his restraints. A doctor lay a latex-gloved hand against his cheek, and he recoiled, struck with the sudden, intrusive thought that he could _bite her fingers off_ and then

  
The world retracted.

  
He was aware of a vastness, of space, of information, of a crowd yelling behind his eyes and inside his chest and a burning heat on one side and a bitter cold on the other, of the sensation of three-point-seven-three billion foreign presences, exactly three-point-seven-three billion. Three billion seven hundred twenty-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, now.

  
His head hurt.

  
His _head?_

  
Three billion seven hundred twenty-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-eight.

  
***

  
"Helios."

  
Rhys stirred, groggy.

  
"Hey." A dull pain, difficult to locate. "Those eggheads down on level five told me you'd be functional by now. Do I need to take a little trip downstairs? Give them another lesson on what _deadline_ means?"

  
**< Who-?>**

  
"Aw, shit." A high, grating laugh. A part of Rhys swelled with admiration, though he wasn't entirely sure where that part came from or whether or not he should tell it to shut up. "Looks like you're not just broken, you're stupid. Lemme give you a little reminder."

  
**_Pain._ ** His mind fractured and rearranged itself, clawing for purchase. That laugh again.

  
The memories finally, sluggishly slotted together in his head. **< Jack.>**

  
"Yeah, kid? It's Handsome. Handsome Jack. We're not on a first name basis."

  
**< You--oh my god.>** Rhys wanted to run, to curl up and hide somewhere. He still couldn't feel his feet, but he was sure he could figure that out when he got to it.

  
" _Now_ we remember." Rhys could hear the smirk in his voice. "And now that we remember, how 'bout we start with something simple. Heat me up a coffee."

  
Rhys froze. **< Um.>**

  
" _'Um'?_ I didn't pay an _obscene_ \--" The word ended on a chuckle, and not a friendly one. "--amount of money on this project for _'um'_ . I paid an obscene amount of money on this goddamn _stupid_ project so that when I say, 'Heat me up a coffee,' I get coffee. _Capisce?_ "

  
** <I...>** A thousand questions ran through Rhys's head, each one more likely to get him gut-shot than the previous one. **< I can't...see the coffee machine.>**

  
A high, whistling intake of breath from Jack. After a pause, it came out on another barking laugh. "Oh my god you're so stupid. Here, lemme do it manually."

  
And Rhys could see.

  
Well, "see" was a bit of an understatement.

  
Rhys felt the dimensions of Jack's office (Jack's _office?_ ) shoved into his mind, sensed a bright spot of heat reclining in a high-backed chair at the center. Another blink, and the entire thing was overlaid with texture, detail.

  
Oh. There was the coffee machine.

  
"That any better, cupcake?"

  
**< Yeah...yeah, definitely.>** Rhys shifted, though given that he couldn't feel much of anything, he wasn't sure what exactly he just shifted. **< Um.>**

"Strike two."

Another speech disfluency died on his tongue (though he realized with a start that he couldn't feel that either). **< I can see you, but...where am I? Is this a simulation?>**

  
Jack snorted. "You ask the _cutest_ questions. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad." He reclined further, inspecting his fingernails. "Or costing me so much money." With a soft squeak of protest from his chair, Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Does the word 'Helios' mean anything to you? I mean, it should mean something to everybody in at least a six-light-year radius, but does it _mean_ anything to you? I'm talking in italics here."

  
Rhys had the sudden, frightening sensation that he knew exactly what Jack was talking about. It was familiar--of course it was familiar. He'd been living there for four years. He'd wanted to work there since he was twelve, maybe even younger. But that word had a familiarity to it that he just couldn't chalk up to that, the kind of familiarity that made him sit up at attention.

  
**< No, no, I-->** Rhys choked out a nervous chuckle. **< I, that's not...>**

  
"Just spit it out, kid."

  
**< My name is _Rhys_. >**

  
The smile that split Jack's face was too wide, and Rhys could see it in high definition. "Not anymore."

  
Rhys shuddered. This wasn't happening, this wasn't--

  
_"Consider it a promotion," they said, yanking him from his terminal and cuffing his wrists behind his back. He could see Vasquez watching from the doorway, his self-satisfied smirk visible from across the room._

  
The lights flickered, and Rhys could hear the air conditioning stutter. Jack stood up, brows furrowed. "Nuh-uh, none of that. Suck it up, kiddo."

  
**< That's...that's me?>**

  
Jack's eyes rolled back, and his entire head snapped backward for emphasis. "Oh my _god_. What do you think, that the station's environmental controls just went haywire for no reason? It's you, frickin' dumbass. Now cut it out or I'll shove so many print statements in your source code it'll take you five minutes to say hello."

  
The lights shifted back to normal.

  
"Alright, good. You know how to do that at least. Now, let's try this again. Heat me up a coffee, _Helios_ , with enough sugar to kill a small child. It's been a long day."


	2. Reunited (and it Feels So Traumatic)

One hundred twenty-five days had crawled by since Rhys's new "promotion", and he was finally, _finally_ given access to Accounting. Sure, he was supposed to be determining which light and temperature levels led to optimum productivity, but there was only one thing he could do. Obviously. He scanned the crowds for Vaughn.

  
...Too old, too tall, too...intern-y, and there!

  
The lights flickered, and power supplies beeped a shrill warning. A few accountants groaned and restarted their computers.

  
They told Rhys he would eventually be able to multitask, to comfortably juggle being in multiple places at the same time, but at this point, Rhys's full attention was on Vaughn's terminal.

  
The glasses would be the easiest point of entry. Rhys had already scoped them out years prior, mentally cataloguing their weak points in preparation for a prank that never quite came together. He took a deep breath--whatever that translated to for someone without lungs--before wedging himself between the rows of numbers stacked across Vaughn's field of vision.

  
**< HEY.>**

  
Rhys waited anxiously, wondering if he'd inserted the text in the right place. He watched Vaughn stop, tapping his fingers against his small, one-handed keyboard. (Rhys remembered when Vaughn brought the odd-looking little device home, arguing that it was more efficient than the regular, Hyperion-issued boards. Rhys couldn't help but tease, saying that somehow, Vaughn managed to look even weirder than the guy who got a hole in his head just so he could hack better. Vaughn laughed, but Rhys remembered that the conversation sort of ground to a halt after that.) Finally, Vaughn responded.

  
**< Leave me alone.>**

  
Rhys reeled back. **< Wait, who do you think this is?>**

  
With a groan, Vaughn closed his columns of numbers, opening up a blank text file. **< I don't know who you are, but _please_. Just leave me alone. It wasn't funny the first time, and it's even less funny now. Somehow. >**

  
Okay, time for damage control. **< Vaughn, I'm not the same person. This is the first time I've tried this.>**

  
Vaughn ripped off his glasses, setting them on his desk. He took a deep breath, knobby fingers kneading the skin around his eyes. Rhys grimaced. Obviously he'd miscalculated his damage control. He tried continuing on Vaughn's monitor, but he couldn't quite manage the connection. Glasses it was, then. He increased the font size.

  
**< IT'S RHYS.>**

  
"Stop it!" Vaughn yelled, his voice cracking. Concentric circles of accountants turned to look. "I mean, I'm sorry, I..." He snatched up the glasses and keyboard and ran.

  
Rhys tracked him through the hallways, around corners, through doors until he burst into the men's restroom. Rhys silently thanked Jack or fate or any weird Pandoran deity who would listen that They (whoever They were; probably the nuts in R&D) had seen fit to give him access to the bathrooms. He followed it up with a prayer that he'd never have to use this access again.

  
Vaughn locked himself in the stall against the far wall, perching atop the toilet with both feet on the bowl. He was shaking.

  
**< Vaughn, it's me, please. This isn't a prank, this isn't some douche trying to make you look stupid, this isn't Freshman year with the carpet cleaner.>** He was filling up the available space on the lenses, but he didn't care. Vaughn could scroll. **< It's me. I'm okay. Are...you okay?>**

  
Vaughn tilted his glasses on his lap, peering at the text without picking them up. He blinked away what Rhys hoped weren't tears, and his eyebrows came together in concentration. He closed his eyes, took a slow breath, raised his glasses to his eyes, and started typing.

  
**< What's my favorite movie?>**

  
**< "Starquest XII".>**

  
**< What's my mom's name?>**

  
**< Charlene. But, wait, she changed it after the divorce, right? Now it’s, like, CharLEANNE or something.>**

  
**< Eh, close enough. What's my favorite color?>**

  
**< Goldenrod. Granted, that's kinda mandatory around here.>**

  
**< First pet?>**

  
**< That hamster, the one with the spots and the, the…Chewy! Rest in peace, you weird little fuzzball.>**

  
**< What's your favorite movie?>**

  
**< “Ambition.”>**

  
**< Oh, come ON, dude. It's "Space Babes from Persephone-6" and you know it.>**

  
**< You are NEVER going to let me live that down, are you?>**

  
Vaughn laughed for a moment before he caught himself. His brows furrowed again. **< What were we talking about the night before you...left?>**

  
**< Oh, wait, lemme...This thing takes down stuff as I think it, wait...>** Rhys tried to remember back through the haze of pain and sedatives. **< Moving! We were looking at a slightly bigger closet for us to shove our bunk bed into, right? And then we started looking at the ones we can't afford, and then we started looking at the penthouses, and YOU said you wanted a Pandora-side view, and I wanted an Elpis-side view, and then...was there a pillow fight? Because I think I distinctly remember a pillow fight.>**

  
**< _Rhys._ >**

  
**< Yeah, dude. It's me.>**

  
**< I WENT TO YOUR FUNERAL. FAKING YOUR DEATH: NOT COOL. DOUCHEBAG. >** Vaughn paused, and then kept typing furiously. **< sorry sorry sorry> **

  
**< Dude wait are you serious? They had a funeral for me?>**

  
**< Open casket. You looked...really gross, dude. Was that some kind of clone? Where are you right now?> **

  
Oh. Oh no. That explained...oh. Rhys wasn't sure how to mourn in this case, but something in him told him this was definitely something worth mourning.

  
**< That's...a lot more complicated than I wish it was. Maybe you should sit down. More. And not do that perching thing you're doing, since I don't want you to...slip. Or anything.> **

  
**< please tell me this isn't going where i think it's going>**

  
**< If you think it's going the "Hyperion kidnapped me to use me for a lab rat and kind of murdered me I guess but kind of didn't" route, then I'm sorry.>**

  
**< What is "KIND OF" murdered?>** Vaughn set the glasses back down on his lap, scrubbing at his eyes again, before returning them to his face.

  
**< Good news: I'm not dead. Bad news: I might or might not be a...copy? Of myself? Who is dead?>**

  
**<???????!!!!!! >**

  
**< Okay okay okay wait. Remember how they made an announcement about the, uh, Helios AI? Like a month ago?>**

  
**< Yeah...? The one where they said we'll be able to go, like, "Helios, turn the lights off," and they go off? Not sure why they need an _artificial intelligence_ for that. >**

  
**< So, uh. Funny story. About that AI.>**

  
Vaughn looked up slowly. Pinching them gently between forefinger and thumb, he placed the glasses on the floor, stood up, and walked out of the stall. His knee collided immediately with a wastebasket. Suitably cowed, he retreated back into the stall and perched his glasses back on his nose.

  
**< Gross.> **

  
**< THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY. "GROSS.">** Vaughn paused. **< And I'll sanitize them right afterwards because yeah actually I'm really starting to regret the whole floor thing.>** With an quiet half-cough, Vaughn cleared his throat. "And, wait, can you hear me?"

  
**< Yep. Can't talk, but yeah. I read you loud and clear.>**

  
Vaughn groaned, rocking his head back against the faux-tiled wall with a loud _thunk_. "How is this my life? How is this _your_ life?" His voice climbed higher. "Are you even alive? Well, I mean, are any of us?"

  
**< I...look, I don't know. But I'm alive enough to say that you should really cut that out. The...banging your head against the wall thing. And maybe the existential crisis thing.>**

  
Vaughn sighed through his nose, knocking against the wall one last time. "Why is Hyperion so...?" He let out a confused noise and spread his hands wide.

  
**< That sweet, sweet six-digit salary, probably.>**

  
"Touché." 


End file.
